


Five from Eleven

by SarunoHadaki



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fisting, Erik POV, Fluff and Smut, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), M/M, Swearing, Trans Character, Trans Luminary, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29169057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarunoHadaki/pseuds/SarunoHadaki
Summary: A chance encounter at a bar brings Erik in contact with a silky haired stranger who’s not only extremely alluring, but confident, and smooth, and oh-so good with his hands.
Relationships: Camus | Erik & Hero | Luminary
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Five from Eleven

Four.

That was the number of times the brown-haired boy across the bar had glanced back at Erik, this time as the burly, purple-haired gent on his right threw an arm around his shoulder and he curved in his seat, doe eyes moving that incremental distance to land on Erik’s face as he pushed the arm off him and laughed. Then his gaze flitted away again, distracted by something his woman friend with long, black hair was saying.

Erik slouched deeper into his wooden chair, pushing his half-finished daiquiri back and forth between his hands. He’d seated himself at a small table in the far corner of the room, a shady spot where the yellowing light bulbs couldn’t quite reach, and he could look at the whole room without seeming to do so intentionally.

He’d usually sit at the bar too, but all the stools had been taken when he’d first arrived. The silky haired boy had brought quite the entourage with him, but as the hour passed, people dipped out. Now it was just the stranger and his two tall, beautiful buddies on each shoulder.

Erik usually only dropped by the bar after work for a quick drink before going home, but he couldn’t leave yet, not when _he_ was still here. Yeah, there was a 99% chance nothing would happen, and he’d end up going home with blue balls, leading him to have a sad fap in the shower, but there was a chance these glances _meant_ something, and dammit, a man could hope.

So Erik waited, not unlike a lion stalking its prey. Prey that just happened to have the loudest, sweetest laugh imaginable, and hair that would put even female models to shame.

Erik glanced down at his phone for the thousandth time and lifted his head just in time to catch the blur of those eyes on him again.

Fuck. Five.

“Hey,” Erik snapped, turning his head to catch a server before he returned to the bar, an empty serving dish spread out on his hand. “A pilsner for the brown-haired guy at the bar. Tell him it’s from me.”

The server nodded his head and slid off toward the bar. Erik tapped his fingers against the table as he waited, absently thumbing the gold hoop in his ear.

He straightened in his seat when the bartender spoke to the brown-haired boy, pointing straight at Erik from across the room. The three strangers turned to look at him. Erik raised his daiquiri, and his crush briefly turned away to retrieve his glass of lager. Cool, they could do a little glass clink from across the room. It’s whatever.

But then the guy threw his head back, took a deep breath, and started chugging the golden liquid, bearing his throat as the lager went down. Erik stared in awe.

“Chug! Chug!” The woman shouted, hands clenched into fists.

“Chug!” The man got started too, his deep voice reverberating through the whole bar.

Seconds ticked away at an agonizing pace as the guy sucked the drink up like a fucking vacuum, and try as he might, Erik couldn’t tear his eyes away. When the dude finally finished the lager with a theatrical gasp, he turned the glass over and shook it for good measure. He stared at Erik as he licked his lips, squinting with an air of attitude as his pink tongue stuck out to brush across his lower lip, then inside his mouth, making his cheek bulge in a way that sent a jolt through Erik.

Erik drank the last of his watered-down rum, _subtly_ curling his lips together to wipe off the taste, then stood and dragged the empty glass with him to the bar. The distance wasn’t very far, but Erik could see a certain pair of eyes reading him up and down as he moved under the lights. He was either very bad at this or wanted Erik to know he was staring.

Erik reached the gazing guy, leaning in to slide his arm across the counter and plant his empty cocktail down, bringing him close enough to get a whiff of perfume, possibly from the woman next to him. Then Erik drew away, tucking his hands into his skinny jean’s pockets, as the blue-eyed boy smiled up at him.

“Who can I thank for my hangover tomorrow morning?” he asked.

His voice rolled over Erik like honey, sticking to him and leaving a sweetness in its aftermath. There was the twang of a British accent there, but of a dialect Erik couldn’t determine.

“Name’s Erik,” he said with a suave salute.

“That’s a fancy accent you have. Where’s it from?”

“It’s Scandinavian.”

“Oh really?” The guy asked immediately.

He was hanging off Erik’s every word and responding as quickly as Erik could spit the syllables out, staring at Erik in a way that made his heart shiver.

“I’m going to the little ladies’ room,” the woman with purple, catlike eyes said, then slid out of her seat.

“That your girlfriend?” Erik asked, lowering his voice just a little so she couldn’t hear.

“No, I’m gay,” he said, and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, blushing.

Holy shit. Who just out and said things like that, and so cutely, too? Erik glanced to the stern-looking man next to him.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Erik asked.

“No,” the older man cut in, eyes narrowing even more. He looked a little tired, swaying in his seat.

“I’m single,” the young man confirmed, all but saying, _sit with me, sit with me,_ when he tilted his head down a little, gazing at Erik with an inviting smile.

From a distance, this guy had looked more… unapproachable, especially with the thick eyebrows and sturdy build. But up close he gave off the energy of a golden retriever. It was _really fucking charming_. Erik wondered what he could have done to encounter such wonderful company tonight.

Erik elected to steal the woman’s chair, the warm leather soft to the touch. He turned to said wonderful company. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Call me El,” El said. “And this is Hendrik,” he added, with a robust shake to the man’s shoulder, snapping him awake as his chin began to dip into his chest.

What could that be short for, Erik wondered. Elijah? Elliot?

“Eleven, we’re heading home.” It was the woman, back already to ruin their fun.

“Aww, but Jade, I was having so much fun,” El hummed. “Go on without me. I’ll call an Uber later.”

Jade considered this, then crossed her arms. “Haven’t you already given Amber enough of a headache?” she sighed.

El reached back to rest his elbows against the lip of the bar, eyebrows drawing down. “I’m a grown man. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

This was very clearly a warning, one that his friend took seriously. Jade glared at him and he stared evenly back, then Jade pulled her phone from her pocket.

“You win this time, but if anything happens to you, you’ll be under house arrest for a decade,” she warned. “Text me when you get home.”

“Okay,” El said. Erik’s body ached at the way El cocked an eyebrow at the woman, clearly in his element.

“Good night, Eleven,” Hendrik said, patting El on the shoulder as he rose.

“Night,” El said, watching with Erik as the two doofuses stepped outside, Jade whipping her head around one last time to give Erik a warning glare.

Erik turned his stool around, busying himself with reading the labels on the dozens of bottles lining the wall behind the bar. “Your friends are… something,” he mumbled.

El spun around in his chair too, propping his elbows up and resting his chin in his hands. “Mmhm.”

A brief silence stretched on between them. El reached for a glass of water and emptied it. He really knew how to pack it away, didn’t he? He barely looked fazed by all the drinking he’d been doing, making Erik wonder how drunk he really was as he nursed a buzz of his own.

“Hey, do you live near here?” El asked and turned to face Erik, who gaped at him. “I’m sorry, is that too forward? I’ve never done anything like this before…”

Again, he brushed his hand against his ear, unnecessarily tucking hair away from his face as he blushed. Erik stared. Was this a joke or something? Some innocent angel who’s never gone on a one-night stand before is suggesting in dulcet tones that he’d like to fuck. It couldn’t be real.

“Sorry to be a downer, but would you really want to do something like that with me?” Erik asked, all but pointing a finger at himself with a dopey look on his face. “There’s probably a reason you’ve never done this before.”

“Maybe,” El said. Erik felt a hand slide onto his leg and looked down. The fingers kneaded his skin, curving a little into his inner thigh. “But I know what I want, and I’m not afraid to pursue it.”

When Erik looked up again, he sorely regretted it. El was surveying him with a hungry glint in his eyes, tongue sticking out to lick his upper lip, which was curved up in a grin.

Erik didn’t know how much more of this he could subject himself to before he went crazy. “Bartender, my tab,” he said, lifting his hand into the air to draw his attention. A hand that definitely _wasn’t_ shaking with anticipation.

– ★ – <<>> – ☆ – ☆ – <<>> – ★ – <<>> – ☆ – ☆ – <<>> – ★ –

“Ahh…” Erik rolled his tongue across the skin under Eleven’s ear, sliding a hand across his neck to pull him closer, grinning to himself at the sighs coming from El’s lips.

“Do you like that?” Erik whispered into his ear, savoring the shutter that followed.

Erik sat straddling El’s hips, leaning forward to shove El’s head into the white pillows behind him. El wordlessly obliged, hand shooting out to pick at the hole in Erik’s jeans, index finger rubbing circles into his skin.

This was off to a slower start than Erik had expected. El’s first move when they’d arrived at Erik’s studio apartment was not to slather him in kisses but tap away on his phone and ask for the bathroom. Erik had poured himself a glass of water while he waited and tried to keep his mind occupied, staring at his bookshelf, avoiding the unmade bed or Slayer poster unpeeling itself from his brick wall.

“Sick,” El had said of the red words crammed into a black and white eagle crest on the poster, then dumped his phone on Erik’s bedside table and moved in for a kiss.

He did the same now, all tongue and teeth, hand moving from Erik’s leg to his cheek, cupping his face in his hands, while the other slid under Erik’s shirt and roamed over his nipples. Erik eagerly shuffled to pull the shirt off, separating long enough for him to toss the green V-neck to the floor and return to locking lips.

El tasted crisp, like the lager Erik had bought for him. His hands slid down to Erik’s pants, blindly trying to find the zipper to get Erik out of them.

“Dammit,” El whispered, his knuckles scraping against Erik’s navel.

Erik laughed into his mouth and brought his hands up to rest against El’s stomach, feeling the faintest definition of abs under his fingertips, hands swimming toward El’s chest. El made a sound somewhere between a moan and a gasp, grabbing Erik by the wrists before he could go any further.

“Wait, I—” El stopped as Erik curled El’s left hand in his, pressing soft kisses to his fingertips. “I’m trans,” El whispered, and oh, the blush on his cheeks was adorable.

Erik licked his lips. “That’s okay,” he whispered back, brushing his thumb across his cheek. “I dig you regardless of what you got goin’ on downstairs.”

The cloudy look on El’s face washed away and he squeezed Erik’s hand. “Your grammar’s shit,” he giggled.

“Wow, this coming from someone who really put himself on the line just now,” Erik huffed. “You’re putting a lot of trust into a guy you don’t know.”

“But you’re not like that, are you?” El lowered his head and lifted his blue eyes in a coy smile.

Shit. El was seriously too smooth. Erik leaned in and gave him a huge kiss on the lips, then finally reached down to properly slip out of his skinny jeans, undoing the button and zipper.

“So, um, what are your… rules, I guess?” Erik fumbled, pulling away completely to sit on the edge of the bed and slip his jeans off for good, the denim crumbling to the floor.

He heard some shuffling behind him, then felt a mass of warm skin against his back, nipples pressing into his shoulder blades. El wrapped his arms around Erik’s stomach, resting his chin on Erik’s shoulder.

“Refer to my chest as my chest, and the stuff downstairs as my front hole and anus. You can touch me wherever you want,” he whispered, right into Erik’s ear.

How the fuck he managed to say all of that so smoothly, Erik had no idea. He had to respect him for being so straightforward about it, though. Erik liked men who could take charge.

Speaking of… El took Erik’s right arm and guided it behind him, bending at an awkward angle to slide past the waistbands and into El’s underwear. Erik’s fingertips brushed against coarse hair, then a little deeper, middle finger curving to slot into El’s wet hole and Erik’s mind unraveled right there when El moaned into his ear, pushing Erik’s hand deeper.

“Just don’t—” El panted, hot breath racing across the back of Erik’s neck, his boxers suddenly feeling a lot tighter. “Don’t stare too much.”

Honestly, Erik didn’t know what to think. His heart throbbed at an uneven pace in his chest, each thought crumbing as he attempted to assemble them. He’d only ever had sex with other biological males and was beginning to realize he was seriously out of his element here. He was pleasantly surprised, however, that it felt amazing. He could definitely (literally) get behind exploring all of Eleven’s parts if they made him make noises like that again, whatever the bits were.

Erik turned around, El dropping his head onto the pillows again as Erik fingered him, blood rushing to Erik’s face. El’s eyes dropped shut and he reached up, digging clawlike fingers into the pillowcase. He turned his head to the side, hair falling like a curtain around his face, pink lips slack.

El looked amazing like this, spread out in front of him, bare chest heaving with staggered pants. Erik barely noticed the extra flesh gathered around El’s nipples, or his lack of a penis, though the ladder could be because his jeans were very much still on, pushed down just low enough for Erik to wriggle his hand in. He slipped a second finger in without thinking too much about it, grinning at the way El bucked into his touch.

“Erik,” he moaned, and the sound left him dripping in his fucking boxers.

“Yeah?” he asked, fingers stilling.

“What sex stuff are you into?” Eleven asked, and he managed to look seriously curious even with two fingers stuck up inside him.

The aching sexual hunger in Erik’s stomach tightened. What if their sexual preferences didn’t match up at all? He was pretty boring, to be honest; dick in ass sort of stuff was his default, and he _loved_ bottoming, though that’s not something he was gonna brag about. He didn’t have any strap-ons or a very robust sex toy collection, either. So how was this going to work?

“I, uh, I like to be penetrated,” Erik admitted, free hand scratching the back of his spiky head.

El straightened, propping his back against the brick wall abutting his bed. Erik pulled his fingers out, instead folding his legs up to sit across from El, who stared down at Erik’s groin like he just realized Erik had been rocking a boner this whole time.

El leaned over and grabbed Erik by the shoulders, sending a jolt through him. El’s eyes lit up like sparklers. “That’s great news,” he said, hands lingering on his forearms. “Have you ever been fisted before?”

Erik gulped. “…No,” he said, and dammit, that came out a lot quieter than he would have liked. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Not if you go slow,” El said, hands sliding up to his shoulders. “And I would be _very_ gentle with you,” he whispered into Erik’s ear.

Erik shuttered, all of him springing to attention. “Let’s do it.”

“Do you have a butt plug?” El asked, and he was already looking around the room with an eagerness that made Erik tingle.

“Yeah,” he grinned and made to stand, El grabbing him by the wrist before he could get any farther. What was it this time?

“Wait, before you go walking around your apartment, could you take your boxers off?” El asked.

Erik paused, cheeks reddening. “You sure are shameless, huh?”

“Guilty as charged.”

Erik stood and pulled his boxers down to his knees, rubbing the back of his neck and offering up an embarrassed smirk in response to El’s staring. Blue hairs trailed from his navel down to his half-hard cock, pre-cum glistening on the head.

“Wow, you dye your junk?” El gasped.

“Nope,” Erik bristled with smugness. “It’s all natural, baby.”

“Holy shit,” El grinned. “It’s not every day I get to fuck Sonic,” he teased.

– ★ – <<>> – ☆ – ☆ – <<>> – ★ – <<>> – ☆ – ☆ – <<>> – ★ –

“Ah— hah—” Erik gasped, squeezing his eyes shut, forcing them back open when El’s fingers brushed against the sensitive walls of his ass.

He lay on his back, head resting on a pillow, hips raised with another pillow wedged under him for good measure. El knelt over him completely naked too, left hand holding Erik’s bent knee against his waist while his other hand worked at stretching Erik. A white towel was spread out beneath them to catch whatever inevitable mess they made, an abandoned butt plug and open bottle of lube rolling around not too far away.

They’d been working at a slower pace than Erik would have liked, but El managed to keep his attention the whole time, even as his hint of a buzz fizzed out. They’d started with a butt plug because El thought it would help clear him up down there, but (hah) Erik had eagerly moved past that. He kind of lost track of time after El had — with _consent_ — slid the first few lubed-up fingers in and massaged his insides like dough.

He was still a little too tight for a fist, El had said, but on the bright side, it seemed Erik’s ass would be able to fit his whole hand. El had said it like he was forecasting the weather. Erik couldn’t help but snort.

El pulled his fingers out, Erik pouting. El wiped his hand across the towel, easing Erik’s leg back down, Erik gasping a little as he stretched the muscles back out and shook off a cramp.

He felt a little empty now, frowning, but honestly welcomed the brief break so he could stare at El as he squeezed more lube over his fingers. El might be a cutie, but there was also a peaceful deliberateness to his movements. Erik guessed it’s that same peaceful confidence that made it so easy to trust him.

“How old are you?” Erik asked, lightly thumbing his cock, staring at the curve of El’s spotless, tan skin as he stretched. The more Erik looked at him, the more he found the other extremely alluring.

“Twenty-one. It was my birthday today,” El said, turning to Erik with the softest smile on his face.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“You’re spending your birthday banging some stranger,” Erik said.

“A sexy, blue-haired stranger with piercings. I call that a win,” El said, winking.

“Take me now,” Erik grinned, and El leaned closer.

“Gladly,” he crooned.

He kissed Erik on the collarbone, then guided Erik’s leg up again, Erik hefting the other leg up to cling to El’s waist. He smelled faintly of nature, like a hike through a forest. So serene.

“Wanna try five fingers?” El asked.

“Hells yeah,” Erik said.

Erik studied El’s serious expression as he nudged his fingers back in. All his nerves tingled under El’s touch, and his body eagerly welcomed El’s hand deeper in, sliding in past his knuckles. Erik felt a rush of satisfaction that they’d finally gotten past that pivotal stage.

He didn’t know he could feel any fuller, but when El pushed his whole hand in up to his wrist, Erik’s mind suddenly blinked off, thoughts fading like clouds parting on a summer day. Pleasure wormed its way into his brain, pulling his eyes to stare at El’s arm and the way it disappeared into him.

Erik chased after that erotic image, pumping his cock, and he briefly clenched around El’s hand, screaming when blunt nails lightly scraped against his prostrate. Fuck, that hurt!

“Oh— _god_ ,” Erik whimpered in a strangled, begging tone, pulling his free hand off his dick to clutch at El’s shoulder instead.

“You’re so _naughty_ ,” El admonished.

Erik’s breath hitched when he saw the legitimate look of disapproval on his face, though it only encouraged the rush of excitement swarming in his hot stomach.

“Fuck — fuck me,” Erik moaned again, and threw his head to the side, shutting his eyes when his heart dropped out of his chest and he completely relaxed, surrendering himself to the bowling-ball sized sensation dominating his mind.

He felt the fingers shifting inside him, the sounds coming from his lips becoming more guttural with each movement. The hand morphed from its beaklike shape into a proper fist, filling Erik even more.

It was… really intense. Erik couldn’t even move or think, too mindfucked by El, by his pleased smile and the things he was doing to his body. He felt right on the brink of orgasm, nerves swarming to the surface, his hand rubbing across El’s smooth shoulder and squeezing.

El pushed in a tiny bit more, but it felt like the whole world was closing in around Erik, and he clutched tightly onto El when he came, everything going rigidly tight. He pulled a face and _howled_ , a drawn-out sound he didn’t even know he was capable of making, ejaculating onto his chest. No fucking joke.

“Shit,” Erik panted, breathless, as he released El’s shoulder from his death grip, leaving a pink mark where his palm had been. His heart found its way back into his chest and hammered against his ribcage.

“Shit’s right,” El said, and pulled his hand out, Erik’s face glowing red with embarrassment and shame when he saw the mess he’d left on the other’s hand.

“It’s no big deal,” El said easily, and the smile he sent to Erik nearly gave him a heart attack.

 _I… What the fuck, why is this guy so perfect—_ Erik thought, and lurched forward while the butterflies were still going batshit crazy in his chest, covering El in a tight hug.

There was no way he could even begin to name the strange feeling washing over him. It was some twisted mix of fear and complete bliss, so unbelievably grateful that El was here and yet so disappointed that it was over, that the whole purpose of their coming together like this was over, and now El could slip out of his arms again without giving Erik any chance to actually get to know him.

He felt an arm slide around his waist and an open palm rubbing circles into his lower back as El reciprocated his hug, resting his head on Erik’s shoulder.

“You smell nice,” he said, softer than Erik’s panicked heart or even his flaccid dick.

“You mean like sex?” he mumbled back.

“Well… a little,” El admitted with a shrug. “But also birch wood.”

“What does that smell like?”

“It’s, like, green and… sweet,” El said back.

He pulled away sooner than Erik would have liked, pushing his legs over the side of his bed and onto the floor.

“I’m gonna go wash up real quick, okay?” El asked, and Erik nodded.

Erik would gladly admit that he stared at El’s backside as he walked across the floor and into the bathroom. When the door shut, Erik sagged against the wall, eyes glancing to the clock mounted on the wall across from him. It was only 10:46 at night, but he felt tired enough to pass out on the spot if he wasn’t aching for a shower and a clean bed (or, if he was more honest with himself, a good cuddle).

Instead, in the short time he was alone, Erik pulled the pillow out from under him and snuck a quick hug from it, the frantic blush on his cheeks gradually receding. Then he rubbed the thing over his ruined chest and pushed it over the far edge of the bed.

El stepped back out of the bathroom and bent down, picking his shirt back up off the floor and slipping it on before he sunk into the bed again, making a spot for himself next to Erik, who forced himself not to seek another hug.

Instead, El reached over for the lube and clapped the lid shut, placing it on the bedside table next to his blinking phone. El peeked at the screen then flipped it over on its back.

“Can I just ask… who _are_ you?” Erik asked, turning his head to look at him, catching the quick glimpse of what looked like a tattoo on his left hand.

“I’m Eleven,” El said with a laugh.

“No, you’re twenty-one,” Erik joked.

“And you’re silly,” El said back, summoning the same, innocent cuteness that Erik found so damn attractive.

“No, what I really mean is,” Erik rubbed the back of his spiky head, stumbling for words. “You have this _vibe_ about you. It’s… no, I can’t explain it.”

“Go on, it’s like…” El looked expectantly at him, thick eyebrows drawn up and sea-blue eyes drawing Erik in.

Erik glanced away before the expression immobilized him. “I barely know you, but you’re so _real_ , so… genuine. Like I could tell you anything, and you’d roll with it.”

“Thanks,” El said, grinning. “You make it pretty easy, what with the way you look at me. You wouldn’t stop staring, even at the bar.”

“I — I wasn’t staring! _You_ were staring!” Erik sputtered.

“You’re so sweet,” El teased, and lightly pinched him on the nose.

Erik spent all of two seconds pouting before a smirk came over him and he planted a chaste kiss on El’s lips.

“Happy birthday,” he said, and El shot him back a million-watt smile for his troubles.

“Now, about my bed…” Erik began, and El kept smiling as they went through the process of cleaning up.

– ★ – <<>> – ☆ – ☆ – <<>> – ☆ – <<>> – ☆ – ☆ – <<>> – ★ –

The next morning, Erik noted the exact moment that Eleven rose from the bed, his weight disappearing from Erik’s squeaky mattress. Erik’s heart sputtered to life, jaggedly working its way into his throat, as he kept his eyes shut and strained to listen to the other navigating his apartment.

Now that he was awake, surely El would be out of there in no time flat. He probably had a worried mom to placate, or friends to eat breakfast with, or honestly anything more important to do than awkwardly wait for his one-night stand to wake up so he could exchange half-assed greetings with him.

So Erik waited. He listened to the faucet sputter on as El poured himself a glass of water and the creak of _someone_ shoving their grubby fingers into his cabinets. Then feet padded into the bathroom and the doorknob jangled shut as El pissed in the toilet and brushed his teeth with Erik’s spare toothbrush. Seriously, was this guy deliberately taking his time, or what?

But eventually, Erik heard the heavier _chunk_ of his apartment door being opened, and then the resolute _click_ as it closed. Well, maybe he left a phone number, right? Who was Erik kidding? He definitely hadn’t heard the rustle of paper or scribble of a pen.

Erik’s hand slid over to the phone tucked under his pillowcase and he checked the time, then heaved a heavy, decimated sigh as he turned over in bed.

He violently jerked backward when a pair of wide, blue eyes stared at him, El’s head resting on his mattress with hands curled under his chin.

“Sooooo, are you gonna give me your number, orrrrr…?” the deceitful bastard asked.

Try as he might, Erik couldn’t stop grinning, his cheeks numbly protesting as he reached for a pillow and shoved it into El’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism and kudos are appreciated! ^ _ ^  
> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :-)


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